Journey to Bohemia
by Mars1040
Summary: (Revised) Fantasy AU; A princess, her bodyguard and a troupe of musical misfits team up to find a cure to a disease that is plaguing their homeland and fight off a Cult who wants to destroy them. Along the way, they experience hardships and a friendship that will change their lives.
1. The Princess

**(Note: I've put up the original story on my DeviantArt account if you're interested in reading/rereading it)**

Link: And so it...restarts.  
Scout: Yeah, I don't get that at all.  
Mars: Isn't it obvious? I wanted to rewrite the story because I think it could be better, and I like to think that's I've made some improvements in this chapter.  
Jenny: That pretty much means read this chapter, stuff has changed.  
Mars: I've added more details and I think I'm gonna be much happier with this version of the story.  
Link: ...  
Scout: ...  
Jenny: ...  
Link: You have something else to say, don't you?  
Mars: Yes, I just saw my first live production of Rent! It was amazing! And you haven't seen Rent until you've seen it live, believe me! It was my College's Production and it was SO GOOD! The actors were amazing, and it nearly made me cry! I've never been more touched by anything else in my entire life!  
Scout: That it?  
Mars: Oh and one more thing...  
Angel: Hi.  
Link: Cut to the disclaimer, we'll never get a move on if we don't do it now.

Disclaimer: As always, I don't own anything having to do with Rent besides the merchandise.

Journey to Bohemia  
**Chapter 1: The Princess**

Bohemia, a prosperous country founded on the belief that no one should be judged based on their beliefs, the color of their skin or even their sexual preference. At first many doubted it would thrive and were afraid of its revolutionary ideals. So the neighboring countries waged war on them, hoping to crush its philosophies. However, with each war, triumph followed and the country was integrated into Bohemia itself. This had gone on for years until Yorkland and Phidella, the neighboring countries to the North and South respectively, formed an alliance with it. It was declared that if any country were to attack Bohemia for its ideals, that Yorkland and Phidella would join the fight. Thus, for several hundred years, Bohemia and its neighbors sustained peace and prosperity.

Until the Plague had struck.

* * *

Doctors running around, people being carried throughout the palace, solemn faces.

This was the sight the ten-year-old Bohemian princess had gotten used to for the past three years. She sat on the stairs in the main entrance hall, unable to help in the ensuing chaos. Silent tears stained her caramel skin as she thought watched helplessly as the people around her were panicked and dying.

"Princess Marita," she looked over her shoulder to see her mother's advisor, standing at the top of the stairs, "Your parents want to speak to you." She stood up, smoothed her dress out and wiped the tears away before going with the woman.

The advisor brought her into the throne room, where her parents, the king and queen of Bohemia sat in their thrones. Beside her father was an older man she recognized as the general of the army and a friend from her childhood, Thomas Collins, clad in knight's armor. She was overjoyed to see him for the first time in years, having been in training to become a knight, but she restrained herself, as a princess should.

"My dear Princess," The King began, "Although you're still a child, you've become a polite, respectful and compassionate Princess."

The Princess respectfully bowed, "Thank you fath…"

"No formalities _mi niña pequeña_," Her mother spoke up, "Please."

Her eyes darted between both of her parents in a slight panic, "What's going on?"

"Mimi," her father called her by her nickname, "You know about the Plague, right?" She nodded cautiously, "Do you want to help stop the deaths it's causing?"

Mimi nodded frantically, "Yes! Is there a way I can help?"

"There is," The General confirmed, "We have decided to send you, and the newly knighted Sir Collins away to Phidella to search for a cure."

She was taken aback by this, "You're sending me away? But can't we find a cure in Bohemia?"

"If there was a cure in the country, we would have found it already," he informed her solemnly.

"Perhaps if we send you…" The King began.

"I don't wanna leave Bohemia!" Mimi protested.

"This isn't up for discussion Mimi!" Her father quickly stood up from his seat to shout, but coughed violently before sitting back down.

"It is better if you leave Bohemia," The Queen informed her, "_Antes de su muerte_." Mimi's eyes widened when she heard this, she turned to her father and noticed that he looked much thinner, much paler and very much frailer than he had been in years. "Do you understand Mimi?"

She fought hard to stop herself from breaking down in tears, "Yes _Mamá_, _Papá_. I will do as you say."

"Very good Princess," The General bowed, "You should leave at once. I have already taken the liberty of getting some horses ready for you."

Collins began to leave but before Mimi joined him, she ran up to both of her parents and gave them as big a hug as she could muster.

"_M__i niña pequeña_, my darling Mimi," Her mother mused while hugging her, "_Vive tu vida al más lleno_."

"Goodbye," she told them when she finally pulled away to go with Collins.

* * *

The first few hours of Mimi and Collins' trip were in a grim silence. It was the first time they were together since he had gone into training seven years prior, but the princess found herself at a loss for words. Collins himself did not have anything to say either. It was just as hard for him to leave his home country as it was for Mimi. He was an orphan, raised in the Alphabet City until he was six, when he met his best friend, Angel Dumott Schunard and was taken in by his family. The two boys were also close to the royal family and had known Mimi practically since she was born. However, as the Plague struck, many of the adults they had known died, and Angel's family felt the need to leave Bohemia the previous year. Now, they were leaving everyone and everything they had ever known.

Finally, the knight decided to speak up, "I know this must be hard Mimi…"

"How could you?" She spat.

This confused the dark-skinned knight, "What?"

"You've always been someone who spoke out for what you believe in, how could you let them do this to us?"

He pulled his horse in front of hers to stop for a moment, "You think I took this lying down?" She did not respond, "I didn't, I fought as hard as I could to keep us in Bohemia."

"Then why aren't we staying?"

He stared her straight in the eyes, "People are dying Mimi, even if we don't find a cure…" He turned away, "At least the royal bloodline will live on."

"You don't really think that."

He turned back toward her, "Of course I don't, and I honestly think we're the last people that should be sent out of Bohemia."

"Why?"

"It's because we're different, most people in Phidella and Yorkland have pale skin and are quick to judge us just based on that, let alone the fact that I'm…" Collins stopped before he completely lost his temper. "But we don't have any choice. We need to find the cure to the Plague." With that, he pressed on.

Mimi, however, held back, "But what if we can't find it?"

"We have to," he called back.

* * *

"Mimi, get up, it's after dawn."

The teenaged princess groaned before opening her eyes. She slowly sat up from the uncomfortable ground, which she had gotten used to in her travels in the past seven years. She groggily blinked at her now-adult guardian, who was couched at the entrance of her personal tent, "How long?"

Collins shrugged, "An hour, maybe two. I was going to let you sleep, but it didn't look like you were getting up anytime soon."

Mimi drew her knees close to her body, "I was dreaming about the day we left Bohemia."

"Oh," he was slightly taken aback, "I made breakfast, come out and eat."

When he closed the tent, she pulled off her nightgown and dressed herself in her traveling clothes, a long lavender tunic, a grey pair of tights and a pair of long bluish-silver boots before crawling out of the tent. Her eyes squinted in the morning light as she looked around to remind herself of the surrounding area. They had made camp by the river, approximately seven miles away from the main road. The river was flowing steady at the moment, it would be perfect for crossing if they had horses, but they lost their horses in a skirmish with Gypsy bandits two weeks before.

Collins was sitting at a campfire, wearing a blue tunic under gold chainmail as well a black beanie that he had grown accustomed to wearing in the years he and Mimi had spent traveling. As she sat down beside him, he handed her a dish with a modest amount of food on it before picking up his own dish and beginning to eat.

As they were eating, Mimi noticed that he friend did not look well, "Are you okay?"

Collins raised an eyebrow at her, "Why'd you ask?"

"You look kinda…" she looked back at her breakfast, "…sick."

He put his food down, "You haven't been looking too good either."

She merely nodded at this, "I haven't been feeling too good lately." She put her food down and turned to face him, "Collins I think…"

"Don't say it," his abrupt response confirmed her suspicions.

They had both contracted the Bohemian Plague.

"…we should go back to Bohemia," she finished.

"Yeah, we should," he agreed.

Jenny: Alright so why'd we have to end so abruptly?  
Link: Because we have an addition to the Author's Note Club.  
Angel: Hi.  
Jenny: Oh yeah, we have Angel now! (stares at her lovingly)  
Link: He's in drag right now.  
Jenny: I know.  
Scout: So Mars why'd you this...  
Link: Scout, watch what you say about one of Mars' favorite characters.  
Scout: I know who he is you pixie!  
Link: ...pixie?  
Scout: So what's twinkle-toes doing here?  
Mars: Let's see, favorite character, OC enamored with him...  
Angel: Should I be worried about this?  
Mars: Don't worry, she's only fourteen, the worst she can do is glomp you.  
Angel: Oh...what's a...?  
Jenny: (Attacks Angel with a hug)  
Link: That.  
Mars: So anyway, next chapter's gonna be completely different than the original so keep an eye out.  
Angel: How do I get her off me?  
Link: You can squirm out and be lucky that it wasn't Mars.


	2. Musical Misfits

Jenny: Hooray! She finally finished it!  
Link: Yes, Mars has braved through procrastination, finals and a relapse into Neopets addiction.  
Scout: Yo, why does Mars go to college anyway?  
Link: Because she actually wants to amount to something.  
Scout: Hey, I makes loads of cash!  
Link: From bashing people's heads in.  
Scout: Your point is...?  
Angel: Link, you shouldn't go around dissing people without an education. The last time I checked, you don't have an education either.  
Link: I live in a fantasy world, I get my education from experience.  
Scout: Wait, where's Mars?  
Jenny: I don't know, I checked Neopets, she's not there.  
Angel: Where could she be?  
Link: I don't know, let's go to the disclaimer.

Disclaimer: As always, Mars owns nothing related to RENT.

Journey to Bohemia  
**Chapter 2: Musical Misfits**

Forged goods are considered by most to be Phidella's main export. There are a handful of towns dedicated to Smithing, but the main capital for Blacksmiths is the appropriately named Smithville. With direct paths to and from the neighboring countries, Bohemia, Yorkland and Gypto, Smithville was pretty busy and bustling city. It was perfect for street performers to earn a living.

There was only one group performing in Smithville that day, a colorful group that played Bohemian music. They consisted of a percussionist, a guitarist, a vocalist and their manager. Their manager was a blonde, pale young man named Mark Cohen, who wanted to get away from his rich family in Yorkland. The vocalist was Maureen Johnson, a young woman from a vagrant family. Roger Davis, the guitarist was a young man from Eastern Phidella with wavy, sandy blonde hair that dressed in raggedy clothing. Angel Dumott Schunard was the percussionist and an expert in all instruments. He had taught the troupe the Bohemian songs he knew, and that alone had attracted a bigger audience then they would have alone.

Of course, there was another way they attracted audiences. Angel's family had a line of instruments with mysterious powers. He can use his drum to command anyone within a certain radius to do whatever he wanted them to do. The effectiveness of this would depend on the skill of the percussionist and the willpower of the person in question. Of course, he was against making people give them money, so he only commanded people to stop and listen to them, leaving the decision to give the troupe money up to them.

When they finished performing for the day, they were pleased with the amount of money they earned.

"What a haul!" Maureen grinned, "I think we're ready to go to Bohemia now!"

Angel smiled at the thought of returning to his homeland and seeing his friends again, namely his best friends, Collins and Mimi. He wondered if they would be happy to see him after he was forced to leave them during a time where they needed him the most. Though he felt far more guilty for leaving Collins than Mimi, having practically been raised alongside him and subsequently falling in love with him.

The troupe learned that Angel was gay fairly quickly after noticing his feminine behaviors and the fact that he enjoys cross-dressing. He did not tell them much about his personal life, save for a few vague stories about his best friends, and much less about his love life. He did not even tell them his first name when he first met them for some reason that he would not disclose. Although after nearly three years of traveling together, Angel found that it had become easier to trust them, but still would not disclose details about his past.

"I'm not sure," Mark frowned, going through the coins, "Maybe we should head west to earn a little more."

"West? But that's where all the Gypsies are," Maureen whined.

She had some right to complain about Gypsies, they were notorious for being thieves and beggars. Most Gypsies leave their home country of Gypto to either seek refuge from the chaos or to cause more chaos in the more civil countries east of its border. Thieves also have a tendency to gather in the cities and villages near the Gypsy border, further establishing the dangerous nature of the area.

"Yeah," Roger agreed, "If we're gonna go earn more money, we should head east, back to Adamshead or something."

"Back to Adamshead?" Angel said, obviously disappointed.

"We're definitely not going all the way back there," Maureen told them stubbornly, "We've been traveling around Phidella for three years now! We should have enough money to cross the border!"

Bohemia was their ultimate goal the troupe had established when they first met. It had the one thing they were longing for: artistic freedom. As much as forged goods were Phidella's main export, art and entertainment was Bohemia's main export. Artists from all over the world flock to the country in order to share their art or make a living off of it. Like there are towns dedicated to forging in Phidella, there are towns dedicated to different forms of art. Special art schools were established in the town in order for artists to go, get an education and improve their skill, in whatever career they wish to pursue. People can also join or create their own troupes, much like what our protagonists have done. If they are good enough, they are established by the royal family as a Bohemian Troupe, which would earn them a substantial amount of recognition should they travel and perform in other countries.

However, Bohemia was facing hard times with the plague having struck. They enforced restrictions at the borders such as a substantial toll at the gates and turning people away unless they have actual business in the country. This was to limit the casualties the Bohemian Plague was causing. But the plague had somehow spread to Phidella, causing many people to migrate to Bohemia for whatever reason they desired, despite the unreasonable restrictions. Unfortunately, the troupe was no exception.

"What if they increased the toll?" Mark asked, "I'm just saying we should be prepared."

Knowing that he had a point, Maureen groaned loudly, leaning up against the caravan they traveled around in, "I don't believe this!"

"So where are we going next?" Angel wondered as he began to pack up the caravan.

"Santa Fe," he shrugged, brushing his hand through his gelled blonde hair, "From what I've heard, the crime rate is the lowest it's been in months and it's attracting some tourists."

"Tourists?" Roger raised an eyebrow as he helped Angel pack up.

"Or so I've heard."

"What's out in Santa Fe to see?" Maureen pouted.

"Maybe it's because it's the biggest city in the west," Angel put in, "Maybe people like seeing the desert from a safe distance."

"Yeah, people like getting heatstroke," the guitarist told him sarcastically before closing the caravan's back doors.

"It might be for the experience," Mark agreed, "It might be hard to believe but there are some rich people who don't like spending all their time in a ritzy loft in Manhattan."

He rolled his eyes, "That would mean they would have to pass through the Desert Gate, you know, the one that connects Yorkland, Phidella AND Gypto? God forbid they should have to mingle with Gypsies!"

"Touché," he simply said, knowing that wealthy Yorklanders did not want anything to do with Gypsies. He let his eyes wander before seeing a beautiful white cat sitting in front of a building. "Wait," he whispered, carefully reaching into his messenger bag to take out a strange wooden box, held together with metal at its corners with a shallow metal lens at its front. He pointed the box's lens at the cat and pressed a button. He then took a card out from a slot in the back of the box and looked at it. Satisfied he put the box back into his bag and pulled out a book to put the card in.

Curious, Maureen snagged the card out of Mark's hand, "Not bad, at least you don't need color to see how pretty the cat is."

He snagged the card away from her, "Thanks for that critique."

Mark had just taken a still picture of the cat with his pictograph box, creating a pictograph. It was a revolutionary concept, yet it was not widespread, in fact the entire troupe was sure Mark was the only one in that part of the world. Upon discovering Pictography, he left his well-off family in Scarsdale, Yorkland and pursued his goal of being the one to introduce pictography in their region through his work. He has been taking pictures and putting them in a blank book for prosperity ever since.

However, as he put the pictograph in his book he noticed something, "My book's full."

"That's good, isn't it?" Angel asked.

"Yes, and no," he replied, flipping through the book. "It's all filled up, but it doesn't have a unifying theme. It's just…"

"A bunch of random pictures you put into a book?" Maureen suggested nonchalantly. When she was met with the pictographer's disapproving gaze, she merely shrugged, "I'm just being honest. I mean you're not really trying to make a theme or anything even though it's like the first thing you should've done."

Angel nodded, "She's right. It's like making a song by playing a bunch of random notes, but music doesn't work that way."

"Tell me about it," Roger added in a huff, leaning up against the caravan next to Maureen.

Mark understood what they were saying, "Yeah, you're right, I need a theme for the next one."

"Now we're getting somewhere," Maureen walked over to him and put an arm around his shoulder, "Here's an idea: Life."

"Friendship," the percussionist suggested.

"Love," the guitarist muttered.

"Okay," Mark interrupted them, "I think I'll wait until I get a new book before deciding on one." With that, he tucked his book back into his bag, "And since we're done here, I suggest we find a place to store Jonathan and Larson for the night."

He was referring to the twin grey stallions that pulled their caravan, which Maureen had named when they bought them. They were twins, according to the breeder, but he inferred that the two would not be strong enough to pull even the small caravan the troupe owned. However, the two had been pulling the caravan across Phidella for three years with no problems. Because of their loyalty and perseverance, the troupe takes exceptional care of them by having them groomed and fed regularly.

"Excuse me," a young man with reddish-brown hair wearing a dark robe walked up to them, "Are you a traveling troupe?"

"Sorry, you missed the show," Maureen informed him.

"No, I'm not here about your performance," he told them with a friendly tone that seemed almost artificial, "I'm just wondering where you are all from." He looked at each of them individually, lingering on Angel, who was unnerved by the mysterious man.

"We're from Bohemia," the vocalist said proudly.

"Maureen…" Mark started, but she quickly cut him off.

"Just traveling Bohemians trying to earn our living."

"Ah, just as I thought," the man said before walking away.

"What was that about?" Roger wondered, confused about the encounter.

"Beats me," Maureen shrugged.

"Maureen," the pictographer began once again, "We're not Bohemians."

"But we might as well be!" She exclaimed, "I mean, we're artists, we're diverse…"

"One Spanish-speaking Bohemian isn't diverse," Roger told her.

"One Spanish-speaking Bohemian, one upper-class Yorklander…"

"Former upper-class," Mark corrected her.

"One FORMER upper-class Yorklander," she repeated with emphasis, "One Eastern Phidellan and one former vagrant girl. If that's not diverse, I dunno what is!"

Maureen came from a family of vagrants that traveled in along the northern border between Bohemia and Yorkland. This resulted in her absorbing culture from both countries. In Bohemia, she learned how to sing and she was able to make a living for her family by putting on shows in the Yorkland towns. She grew to love performing for people, which had eventually turned her into a bit of a drama queen. However, when the plague struck, her family opted to go west, to Gypto. Not wanting to go, Maureen left her family to travel on her own in hopes of returning to Bohemia to become a recognized performer.

Before anyone else could add to the argument, there was a low growling sound that startled them, causing Maureen to yelp, "What was that?!"

"Must be a wolf that wandered in," Roger muttered, going into the caravan to retrieve the troupe's equipment.

"No it wasn't," she told him warily, "I know wolf growls, that wasn't any wolf."

"It can't be a bear or a lion, they don't live around here," he explained, digging around in the caravan.

He pulled a longsword with a rusted handle out from the caravan and attaching it to his belt. He also took out a shortsword with a bejeweled handle and handed it to Angel who put it on his own belt. Finally, he took out a set of knuckle braces and tossed them over to Maureen who caught them and put them on with expert ease. As the growling grew closer, the three of them took a battle stance, with Roger and Angel ready to unsheathe their weapons and Maureen assuming a martial arts position.

"Mark," the guitarist turned his head to the worried pictographer, "Be ready to get us out of here."

"Right," Mark practically jumped into the driver's seat of the caravan, startling Jonathan and Larson.

As the growling grew louder, it seemed like the troupe was surrounded by whatever was making the sound. Suddenly, there was a deafening silence, but it was cut short when the source of the growling appeared: a gray, hairless, doglike, feral creature with red eyes with white pupils. It was joined by its kind, appearing in all directions, effectively surrounding them. Although shocked and confused by the creatures, the troupe stood their ground, ready to defend themselves.

The creatures lunged at them all at once, but since they were relatively small, the troupe batted them away with relative easy. They tried their best not to hurt them in hopes that they would be intimidated enough to leave them alone. However, when one of them decided to attack Mark, Roger immediately swung his sword at it to kill. When the creature was fatally wounded by the cut, it faded to dust, much to both men's confusion.

When the initial shock wore off, Roger shouted to Angel and Maureen, "They're not real! Strike to kill!"

The two of them understood immediately, striking the attacking monster with fatal intention. Eventually, they managed to defeat all of the creatures and nothing of them remained except for the dust they had been reduced to. Angel and Maureen couched to the ground to investigate exactly what the dust was.

"Hold on, don't get too close to that stuff," Mark warned them, jumping down from the caravan to talk to them, "We don't know what it is."

"Those things were not wolves," Maureen said firmly.

"They were magical," Angel added, taking some of the dust in his hand and examining it. The dust had been the same color as the creatures, but there were also small, glimmering black particles in it. "What do you think it is?" He asked Maureen, having been exposed to more tales of magical creatures and substances than him.

"I have no idea," she muttered, "But I think I know who might." She then skipped over to the caravan, pulled off her braces and rummaged through until she pulled out a small empty pouch, "But we're gonna need to take this stuff with us."

"Sure, take substances that was left behind by monsters trying to kill us with you," Roger said with bitter sarcasm.

The vocalist simple ignored him and swept the dust into the pouch using her hand.

Angel dusted his hand off and turned to face his companion, "We need to figure out what those things were."

"Yeah," Mark agreed, "Besides, is it really a coincidence that we were attacked by monsters right after talking to some weird guy?"

Angel shook his head, "There was something about him that I didn't like."

"Now there's something we can agree on," Roger said, "What kind of guy just walks up to us, asks where we're from and leaves?"

"There's only one way to find out," Maureen closed the pouch and waved it in front of them, "We'll need to show this to a Gypsy woman in Santa Fe."

"Now you wanna go to Santa Fe?" The guitarist crossed his arms.

"Yeah, to see a Gypsy, no less," Mark added.

"That was before we were attacked by those things," she told them nonchalantly, "So we're going to Santa Fe?"

The boys looked at each other a bit uneasily before Angel spoke up, "If it'll get us some answers." He turned to the other two, "What about you two?"

"I have no complaints," Mark shrugged.

Roger merely groaned and went to climb into the caravan. The troupe's mind was set and he knew that there was no changing it; they were going to Santa Fe.

Jenny: This should've been called Exposition: The Chapter.  
Angel: Did you have any luck finding Mars?  
Link: No, but I bet she's working on the first chapter to the parallel story.  
Angel: There's a parallel story?  
Link: Yeah, just let me bold this for the reader's convenience. ** The next chapter to Journey to Bohemia will be worked on after the first chapter of the parallel story, Path to Reverence. I suggest you go read that story as well to understand the whole plot better.  
**Angel: Is that a Rent story too?  
Link: **It's a Boy Meets World story.**  
Jenny: It's the same world so I suggest you get to it...once it's put up.


	3. The Plagued Town

Jenny: You'd think being in school means no updates,  
Mars: ...  
Angel: Anything wrong?  
Mars: You mean besides being in school and having nothing to do for two and a half and three and a half hours?!  
Angel: But...you wrote this!  
Jenny: She was working for most of that time.  
Angel: But don't you love Rent?  
Mars: Too much of one thing can sometimes be a problem.  
Angel: That's not what Liberace said.  
Mars: That's only based on an HBO I saw, I have no idea if he actually said that and I can't look it up 'cause my school's internet is so crappy, I can barely upload this.

Disclaimer: I don't own a damn thing.

Journey to Bohemia  
**Chapter 3: The Plagued Town**

After a day's ride Mimi and Collins reached a small, out of the way village called West Village. They hoped to restock their supplies and get some horses so they can ride the rest of the way to Bohemia. Unfortunately, from their first impression, it did not seem like the village had much to offer. Many stores were closed and the villagers were walking around as if they were sick. The two could not believe what they were seeing.

"What's happening here?" Mimi asked Collins.

"I don't know, but I think we'll find our answers there," he pointed to a building where the villagers were lining up to get in.

They approached the building and looked into the window. Inside they saw a woman with dark skin and slightly unkempt brown kinky hair, wearing cloth over her mouth and gloves on her hand. She was attending to multiple people who looked fatigued and were coughing.

She obviously had her hands full so Collins called out to her, "Hey, do you need help?"

She stopped to look over at the two, "Who are you?"

"We're just passing by," he told her.

She shook her head at this, "No, I don't need travelers." She quickly went back to work.

"But you need help," Mimi pointed out, "This is too much to do on your own."

The woman took another look at them, "Where are you from?"

"Bohemia," she said immediately.

"Bohemia," the woman repeated, "Okay, you might be able to help, come in." Mimi and Collins were let in through the door and were approached by the woman, "Have you ever taken care of anyone with the plague?" They did not respond out of shock, but she prompted for a response, "Answer me."

"Yes," they answered.

"Good, that's what we're dealing with here." With that she gave them instructions and sent them to work.

* * *

Within a few hours, the people were taken care of and the building was empty. The woman sat down and removed the cloth from her face.

"I'm Joanne Jefferson," she began, "I'm a doctor researching the Bohemian Plague in Phidella."

"The plague's a problem in Phidella?" Mimi asked, shocked at the revelation.

"That's right, but the cases I've seen in the last few years don't completely match up with the actual plague," she reached down and took out a book from a bag on the floor. It was a leather-bound book entitled "_La Peste_ _Bohéme_". She flipped through the book and started naming off symptoms, "Fever, chills, weight loss and difficulty breathing, these are all the symptoms that these people are experiencing, but there's one that I've never seen in any of my Phidellan patients, lesions."

Collins raised his eyebrows, "And how long have you been doing this?"

"I've been traveling throughout Phidella for the last five years, and I've never seen any plague victim with the tell-tale lesions," Joanne informed him, "It's led me to believe that this plague in particular is artificial."

"Lesions," Mimi repeated, "What exactly are those again?"

"They're dark spots that appear on a person's skin," she explained, "These in particular occur because of blood poisoning."

Mimi turned to her guardian with a worried look on her face, "Collins, I don't think I've seen anyone with any spots on their skin before."

"Hold on a second," Collins leaned forward towards Joanne, "Are you saying that someone just…created this plague?"

"I know how it sounds, but that has to be the explanation for it," she took a look around and began to whisper, "You see, about ten years ago there was a fire in the section about Bohemian diseases of the Scholar's Library in Adamshead, and apparently, one book was stolen. It was the book on the cure to the plague."

Mimi gasped in astonishment, however Collins was unconvinced, "Was there any proof it was stolen?"

Indignant, Joanne spoke at normal volume, "No, but they kept track of the books that were destroyed, and that was the only book that was unaccounted for."

"So?" Collins retorted, "The book could've burned completely for all they knew."

"While the other books were able to survive? I seriously doubt that."

"Besides, that fire could be unrelated to the plague."

"It happened right when the plague first resurfaced, I don't think it's any coincidence that…"

"Alright!" Mimi practically shouted, "There's no reason we should be arguing about this, at least not right now."

"I whole-heartedly agree," an unfamiliar voice spoke up.

The three of them turned to see a redheaded young woman, looking to be slightly older than Mimi, leaning up against the wall. She was clad in a green halter top, a pair of long gauntlets that extended to her elbows and tight leather pants along with pieces of leather armor that protected the joints of her body. She also wore a lot of equipment, such as a belt across her torso that held a wooden bow, a quiver, a large satchel and a longsword, and a belt across her waist that held a number of daggers as well as a rapier.

Mimi and Collins immediately recognized the woman as a Bohemian thief by the way she dressed (maximum equipment, minimal clothing) and drew their weapons in order to defend themselves. The thief drew one of her own daggers in kind.

"Drop your weapons!" Collins demanded.

The thief kept her calm demeanor and casually responded, "Come on, I haven't even done anything…except break in, I did do that."

"Drop your weapons," Collins repeated.

"But you drew on me first!" She complained.

"Drop your weapons, I won't ask again."

The thief relented, "Fine." She dropped her dagger and put her hands up.

"All of them," he clarified.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Fine then," she reluctantly unbuckled the belt on her torso and waist and let the equipment fall to the floor. "There, I'm completely unarmed, now would you put YOUR weapons down?"

"Your name?" Collins demande.

"What?" Joanne, who had been silent and confused, spoke up. The only thing she had gathered so far was that this unknown girl was that she was dangerous by how many weapons she was carrying, "She's carrying five different weapons, broke in without us knowing and the first thing you ask is her name?

"She's a Bohemian thief," Mimi explained, "They're bound by honor, and there are a handful of thieving families that are loyally bound to the royal family."

"It's Ericsson," she pointed to her collarbone, where a copper medallion hung around her neck. Collins, still pointing his sword at her, approached her and took a close look at it. There was an image of a phoenix etched onto it.

"What generation are you?" He asked.

"Phoenix Ericsson was my father if that's what you mean," she said, "Is that all or do you need my birthday too?"

Collins turned to the other women, "She's okay."

"Okay, so I assume that you're Princess Marita," she pointed to Mimi. She turned to the knight, who had a shocked look on his face, "It's called 'subtlety' Sir Knight, without it, you're just screaming 'very important person'."

"Why are you here?" Joanne wondered.

"I heard you talking from outside so I dismantled the

back window," she pointed to a window toward the back of the building, which was now missing a wooden pane, "and came inside."

"You know something about the plague?" Mimi inquired.

"Well, it's nothing that you already know, except that I know who created this plague."

"That's ridiculous!" Collins interjected, "Who would be cruel enough to create a plague and kill thousands?"

"You've never been in Phidella long enough, it's the cult."

"Cult?" Mimi repeated, "What cult?"

"In the City of Bells," Joanne explained, "It's a city-state separate from the rest of the Phidellan government, and they follow this religion…"

"Wait, if it's a religion, then they shouldn't be called a cult," Collins attempted to clarify.

"It's a cult," the Ericsson girl corrected, "Because the only people who follow it are living in the City of Bells."

"They're barbaric," Joanne continued, "If they find people who don't agree or are different, they arrest them or kill them."

"Or both," the girl added, "But most of them aren't really that bad, it's the officials you have to worry about. They're the ones who're insane. They hate Bohemians, and they want them all to die."

"And what's a better way than to kill off the population and have the rest of the world shun them for causing the plague?" Joanne finished in shock.

"Plus there's another reason," she began to pick up her equipment belts and put them back on, "They're here, by the way, right now they're rallying the village people to 'believe in the almighty one' in order to find happiness."

Astonished, Mimi, Collins and Joanne wasted no time to find the cult.

* * *

"Every single person is born a sinner!" Cried an aging man with a strong voice, "And they will die sinners unless they repent!" He and his companions wore robes and were standing atop a fountain and attempting to preach.

They had managed to draw a large crowd, who seemed very interested in what they had to say. Mimi, Collins and Joanne arrived to see what they were doing.

"If you die a sinner, you will suffer from eternal torment!" Another man cried.

Collins turned to Joanne, "This seems a lot like Christianity."

"It's not," she affirmed, "Keep listening."

"You must confess your sins, and repent," the aging man continued, "You must cleanse the world of all who does not believe in the Almighty One!"

"Okay," Collins turned to Joanne once again to correct himself, "They're racist Christians."

"If you can even call them that," she said, "They never say the word 'God' they always say the 'Almighty One' like it makes the name any more important."

Then, all of a sudden, a voice cried out, "I will repent!" It was joined with other voices.

"I am a sinner and I will repent!"

"Yes!"

"Forgive me!"

"If you are willing to repent, your sins will be forgiven!" The aged man called over all of the voices crying out.

"They're actually buying into this," Mimi said in utter disbelief.

"It actually makes sense," Joanne told her, "These people are scared and dying, they're just being taken advantage of."

"That's right," came the Ericsson girl's voice. The three of them turned around to see her, "They've been going to small towns like these and telling the people the same thing, and the same thing always happens."

"This?" Collins asked, referring to the reaction of the people.

She nodded, "It's sad, but true." She turned to the knight, "That give you enough proof that they're behind this?"

"Not really," he crossed his arms, "Sure, they seem shady but there's no proof that anyone would go as far as to _create_ a plague."

"Just wait," she replied, "I bet you anything you'll see them again, and you'll see how dangerous they really are."

* * *

That night, Joanne announced that she would be leaving the village in the morning. They were not too worried as the men from the cult had convinced the town that they were not "dying as sinners". She could not even begin to wrap her head how easily they were convinced. Sure, they were dying and were easy to manipulate, but it only took the cult a few hours to completely convert them.

But Joanne did not have time to think or do anything about it. She needed to leave and find a way to cure the plague. Although after five years of traveling the country she was beginning to lose hope. The only progress she had made was successfully identifying the plants that may have caused the symptoms. She attempted to treat the plague with the individual cures for the plant, but it was no avail. She was obviously missing something, but she could not figure out what it was. Joanne's train of thought was interrupted when Mimi and Collins entered the building.

"Can you do us a favor?" Mimi asked.

"What is it?" The doctor asked.

"We need you to examine us," Collins explained and he hesitantly added, "We might have the plague."

"Oh my god," Joanne quickly rushed to get her supplies.

She gave each of them a thorough examination, which took over an hour. She asked them questions about their health, how long they had suffered from the symptoms, among others.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" She sternly inquired, "The plague is serious, and since you're the princess, your country is in danger!"

"I know that," Mimi said, "That's why we're going back."

The doctor softened, "Why did you leave in the first place?"

"It was so that she could be able to survive through the plague," Collins explained.

Although Mimi was told that she was being sent away to find a cure to the plague, Collins was told that it was really to get the princess out of the country. He had told her the truth a few years later, and have been traveling through Phidella and Southwestern Yorkland ever since.

"That makes sense," Joanne told herself, as well as to them, "But what'll you do now that you have the plague?"

"We're going back," Mimi explained.

This bewildered Joanne, "That's it? You're just giving up and going back?"

"What else can we do?"

"I'll tell you what else," the Ericsson girl had appeared in the doorway, "You can find a cure."

"How?" Mimi asked, "If it hasn't been found by now…"

"This isn't the first time the plague hit," the thief explained.

"That's right," Joanne agreed, "But everything written about the plague has been destroyed."

"I doubt it," she said with a twinkle in her eye, "I think the City of Bells cult's behind all off this, and I bet they have information about the cure."

"What's all this based off of?" Collins asked, still not convinced that the cult is behind the plague.

"Nothing we don't already know," she told him in a bragging voice.

"That's not good enough," he stood up, "If this cult is as dangerous as you say, there's no reason for us to risk our lives…"

"Who said anything about you guys?" She crossed her arms, "I'm a trained Bohemian thief, I can get what we need and get out, no harm, no foul."

Collins looked at Mimi who responded, "If she's willing to risk her life, I don't see any harm in finding out what the cult knows."

"Exactly," the Ericsson girl agreed, "Then we can meet up and I'll be able to report my findings."

"Meet up where?" Collins inquired.

"And when?" Joanne added, "I'm trying to find a cure for the plague, the least you can do is bring me anything the cult knows."

"Alright, just get me a map," she said.

Joanne went to her bag and pulled out a map of Phidella. The Ericsson girl looked over the map for a few minutes before placing her finger on a landmark.

"Here," she said, "Fort Atmund's a busy trading post, it's the perfect place to discreetly exchange information. As for the when, I think a month would be safe."

"A month?!" Joanne blurted out, "The plague could kill over a hundred people by then!"

"Then come sooner," she told her nonchalantly, "It won't make any difference to me, but I think it wouldn't take me any more than a month to get what I can and get out."

"Fine," the doctor sighed, "We'll meet at Fort Atmund in a month."

"Fort Atmund," Collins repeated, "It's doable. But what should we do in the meantime?"

"I could do some research in some towns east of the river," Joanne said, referring one of the two rivers that flows through Phidella, "And I think I have something for you two to do."

"What?" Mimi wondered.

"You can find some Gypsy remedies in Santa Fe," she explained, "Some of them are very useful in slowing the plague down." She took out a piece of parchment and a pencil and began writing on it.

While she was writing, Collins raised an eyebrow, "Gypsy? Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Joanne said, "The crime rate is down there, right now, perfect for tourism, but everything's pretty expensive over there." She looked up, "You can afford it, can't you?"

"Of course," he assured her.

"If there's nothing else for me to do," the Ericsson girl began to leave, but Mimi stopped her.

"Wait, can you at least tell us your name?" She inquired.

"It's Ericsson."

"Your first name."

"I don't make it a habit of telling people my first name," she nonchalantly explained, "But I'll tell you what your highness, I'll tell it to you when we meet up." She winked at the princess and walked out of the building.

Mars: There, I'm not completely happy with it, but proofreading is the last thing I wanna do right now.  
Jenny: So you didn't reread the chapter.  
Mars: Nope, I can't even point out any of the flaws I think there are.  
Angel: Maybe you should take a nap.  
Mars: I can't...I have a class at four...the next chapter will be up sometime the next month.


End file.
